


in that moment I found life. in that moment I found you.

by lavenderlotion



Category: Ragnarok (TV 2020)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Confessions, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Fuck,everythingabout Magne is weird these days.
Relationships: Laurits Seier/Magne Seier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	in that moment I found life. in that moment I found you.

Laurits rests his head against Magne’s door as he tries to push down the tremendous feeling rising within his chest. His heart is racing against his ribs but everything feels too tight, like his skin is being stretched taut over bone. His arms hang at his sides, feeling too heavy to raise as he rasps his knuckles against the door lazily, before he gets distracted with how cool the wood is against his forehead. Laurits’ words still echo in his ears, playing over again and again. 

He’s always had a sharp tongue that made itself known during the worst (and sometimes the best) of times. In this case, though, Laurits can’t get past how furious he is with their mother for the way she’s been treating Magne. Sure, Magne’s acting batshit fucking crazy, but shouldn’t she be  _ doing _ something about it and not siding with the fake as fuck principle and the shitty cops? Shouldn’t she be  _ listening? _

‘Cause from where Laurits has been, it sure doesn’t seem like she’s listening to him at all. Laurits doesn’t know what the hell is going on either, but he knows that his brother isn’t suddenly living in  _ crazy-town _ and that something must have actually happened. Sure, he  _ might _ be going insane, but Laurits is pretty sure that if his brother  _ was _ gonna go insane it would have already happened, and some fucked-up town like Edda wasn’t gonna be the cause of it. 

Maybe it’s just that Magne’s sprouting a truth that no one wants to hear? 

Laurits isn’t blind. He can see that the Jutul’s really are fucking Edda up. He just doesn’t particularly care, since he likes the long lists of perks he gets from being their friend; he isn’t too proud to get free hiking gear, and booze he doesn’t have to pay for and smokes he doesn’t have to steal. He  _ likes _ being popular and all the power it gives him, even if he hasn’t yet done much to exercise it. Laurits is still waiting, still planning, still  _ scheming, _ before he’ll use any of the popularity-cum-power he’s painstakingly gained. 

After all, he has to make sure he’s going to end up on top, and right now? Yeah, no way would he survive going to war with the Jutul’s no matter what they’re doing to his brother. 

All he knows is that something’s happened, and Magne’s hidden out in his room again. It seems like ever since they got to Edda, Magne’s been spending a shit ton of time holed away on his own. Laurits isn’t exactly complaining, ‘cause it makes it a hell of a lot easier on him when his brother isn’t lumbering around his space, it’s just weird.

Fuck,  _ everything _ about Magne is weird these days. 

Knocking again, Laurits finds that his patience runs out and he pushes himself off the door with a heavy sigh, wondering just why it has to be  _ him _ going to check up on his brother. It’s not like being alone with Magne is something that he goes far out of his way to make happen, but something has to give, even if it’s him. Wrapping his fingers around the door handle, Laurits rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath and tells himself that feeling as afraid as he does is absolutely ridiculous. 

It’s not Magne he’s scared of, after all. 

Not really. 

His brother’s door opens with a whine. The house is old as shit, so it’s a given, but it’s so much more fucking  _ noise _ than their apartment in Oslo had been. He hates it. Hates that he can’t sneak out at night without making noise. Hates that he can’t walk on silent feet. Hates that the shadows play and the house lives and hates how  _ alive _ the entire fucking town is. 

But he’s stuck here. His mom was right about that. And if he’s gotta spend at least a couple more years in this godforsaken town, he’s gonna do whatever the hell he can to make sure it doesn’t suck absolute shit. And, as much as he loathes to admit it, part of that is having his brother around. If nothing else, he makes a real good alibi when Laurits gets in trouble. 

His brother can’t be his alibi if he’s in  _ prison— _ or, from the sounds of it, the psych ward—so... Laurits takes a deep breath and does what he has to do. 

Without a second—who’s he kidding? third—thought, he pushes his way into Magne’s room just to find his oaf of a brother sprawled out across his too-small bed, feet propped up on a fucking  _ sled.  _ Dear god. He studies him from the doorway with his heart still racing in his chest, like it always does when he’s around Magne. 

Magne’s eyes are on the ceiling. His hands are tangled together and resting on his belly. Laurits forces himself not to stare, practised at denying himself what he wants. 

“Magne?” he finally asks, since his brother still hasn’t made any indication that he knows Laurits is in his room. 

It’s a little infuriating. He’d gotten used to having his brother’s eyes on him over the years. At first, it had been because Magne was always watching out for him. Even as children they’d been close, and Magne had always just... trailed after him. As they got older his eyes got heavier, were ever-present, and Laurits realized he  _ liked _ having Magne watch him. Realized that he liked it too much. 

That was when he started to force distance between them until there was an uncrossable canyon of differences keeping them apart. That canyon is still there and Laurits can see it now, clear as day, as he watches Magne stare up at his ceiling unseeingly, an expression on his face that Laurits realizes with a shock he can’t read. 

It’s his fault. 

“What’s going on with you?” His voice is as steady as sure as he can make it. 

Magne... something’s happening. Something that Laurits doesn’t know about and doesn’t know how to ask about, either. Something  _ important _ and probably life-changing. He should know what’s going on but... he doesn’t. He has no  _ idea _ what’s going on, because he hasn’t gone out of his way to talk to Magne in years and Laurits is realizing, all of a sudden, that at some point Magne stopped coming to him, too. 

“I’m going crazy,” Magne’s voice shocks Laurits out of his own head. When he really looks at his brother, he looks  _ tired, _ weary and world-worn and nothing like the boy he remembers growing up with. 

God, this town is poisonous. 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Laurits tells him, a truth he’ll allow when he keeps so many others bitten behind his teeth. “You’re not fucking crazy, Magne. This  _ town _ is crazy, and something is happening, isn’t it?”

The words come out sharper than he intends them to and he carefully hides a wince when Magne’s head falls to the side and his eyes land on him. His gaze is just as heavy and all-seeing as it’s been for years now. Laurits can still remember the first time he felt his brother’s eyes on him and they felt like physical touch.

Their mom had a friend who let them swim in their pool and they’d gone together, but Laurits hadn’t brought trunks and the lady who owned the pool had a son. Laurits had been wearing shorts that barely fit, but he’d wanted to go into the pool anyway and even too-tight swim trunks weren’t going to keep him from swimming. Magne had looked and looked and looked and Laurits had just wanted to play, to race, and Magne had been  _ so slow  _ and talked even less than normal and his eyes had been  _ heavy.  _

Heat had licked up Laurits’ spine and he hadn’t understood, not at first, why his tummy felt warm. All he knew was that Magne saw too much. His eyes were heavy. And even though Laurits wanted Magne to look and look and look and never look away, Laurits couldn’t risk Magne seeing too much. 

That first time, Magne’s eyes had been so  _ heavy, _ and it’s what they feel like now, as Magne stares and stares and doesn’t say anything. 

Laurits finally tears his eyes away from Magne’s gaze and fixes them on the ceiling. Magne has hung a poster above his bed and Laurits focuses on the weathered edges of the paper to give himself something to look at that isn’t his brother. He schools his face and desperately hopes Magne can’t read his expression, either.

“What’s happening with you?” he asks again while staring at the ceiling and looking for all the worlds like he couldn’t care more. It’s a mask he’s perfected, over the years of wearing it. 

“You won’t believe me,” Magne tells him with something heavy in his voice. Maybe he’s right? It’s not like Magne has much reason to think Laurits  _ would _ believe him, not with the way he’s treated him since long before they moved to Edda. 

But he just loves being contrary—and maybe, just a bit, cares—so he dares, “Try me, asshole,” with the best, smarmiest smirk he can muster. 

Magne stares at him heavily. There  _ was _ once a time when Laurits would have revelled in having his older brother’s full attention on him. But Magne sees too much. He’s  _ always _ seen too much and as soon as Laurits realized that, he stopped letting Magne see him at all. There is just... there’s too much Laurits doesn’t want Magne to see, doesn’t want him to know. 

So it’s better,  _ safer, _ with distance between them. 

Magne clears his throat, and Laurits readies himself to parse through the lie he’s sure is going to fall from his brother’s mouth, only...

“I have all the powers of the Norse god Thor and the Jutul’s are Giants and that's why they’re killing the town,” Magne tells him easily, the words rolling off his tongue like they’re the truth. 

In fact, Laurits can hear the conviction in his voice and when he finally pulls his eyes away from the ceiling, Magne is still staring at him with the most genuine face Laurits has ever seen. 

“You’re right. I don’t believe you,” Laurits states, and then he closes the door because  _ what the fuck _ and moves to straddle Magne’s desk chair. “Do you want to try that again?”

Magne stares. He stares and he  _ stares _ and it makes something sharp and anxious crawl up from Laurits’ stomach. He doesn’t like the way that Magne’s eyes feel on him because he likes them too much, has always liked them too much. Magne sees so much more than anyone ever gives him credit for. Laurits knows—he’s always known, and that’s why he forced distance between them until he was sure Magne  _ couldn’t _ see too much. 

Now, Magne is looking at him like he can see  _ all _ of him and it’s... fuck, it’s terrifying. 

But he has to do something. He doesn’t want to see his brother sent away. He doesn’t want to  _ lose _ him and that’s what will happen if Magne doesn’t stop making things worse for himself. Sure, something is  _ definitely _ going on, but if Magne doesn’t calm the hell down and just stop... their mom might really send him away. 

“Why are you keeping secrets from me?” Laurits asks, frustration bleeding into his tone in a way he can’t help. 

“Like you keep secrets from me,” Magne fires back, heat in his words and fire burning in his eyes and Laurits—

Laurits says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” in a voice that even he doesn’t believe. 

“Yes you do,” Magne tells him, and there’s an edge to his tone that makes it sound like a challenge. 

“No,” is just a desperate, useless plea that means nothing because Magne is staring at him like he  _ knows,  _ and Laurits can’t help but think maybe he does,  _ fuck, _ fuck, he can’t know. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” Magne says quietly, and Laurits’ heart breaks apart. 

All Magne has ever done is love him. Laurits knows that his big, blubbering  _ fool _ of an older brother cares about him and has  _ always  _ cared about him. It’s not Magne’s fault that Laurits is a sick, twisted perv who’s in love with his goddamn brother.

“I can’t tell you,” he whispers, knuckles white against his knees and bitten-down nails burning where he’s dug them into the denim of his jeans. 

Then, over the span of seconds that stretch on for  _ years, _ Magne stands up, crosses the short space between them, and kisses him. 

Laurits' entire world goes blank when their lips meet. Something  _ cracks _ through the air and every hair on Laurits’ body stands on end. It feels like he’s in the middle of a storm but maybe that’s just  _ Magne. _ Magne, who’s cupping his cheek with a  _ big _ hand and kissing him, kissing him, _ kissing him. _

Laurits realizes he’s not kissing back and purses his lips. He tries his best to make it good and then remembers Magne hasn’t ever kissed anyone either, only then Magne does something with his tongue that makes him about lose his mind and—

An entire world comes back to him; Laurits remembers a lifetime in starts and stops flavoured by Magne's kisses. His memories smell like lightning and magik and a dawn before. They feel like silken robes and sound like the glimmer of magik and it’s  _ beautiful, _ Norns, it’s all so beautiful. 

“Thor,” Laurits breaths, the name tasting ancient on his tongue. 

He stands, pushing his way into Magne’s space and kissing him back. His hands fist into Magne’s messy hair, tangling around the strands hard enough that Magne  _ moans, _ loud and low into Laurits’ mouth. The kiss turns biting, a thousand years of yearning and denial and a thousand more of  _ love _ twining between them as Laurits comes back to himself. 

Laurits pushes against Magne and his brother goes so  _ easy,  _ letting Laurits lead like he’s done for lifetimes. A grin curls around Laurits’ mouth and Magne laughs into the kiss, and then Laurits pushes him down onto the bed and follows onto his lap, and Magne’s laugh becomes a too-loud moan.

“Be quiet,” Laurits whispers, shaking fingers trembling along the width of his brother’s shoulders as he feels the warm weight of Magne’s lap against the inside of his thighs. 

“Do not kiss me like that if you want me to be quiet,” Magne whispers, and this time Laurits is the one throwing his head back to laugh. “I have missed you.”

Laurits looks down at his brother’s golden face, shining with the afternoon sun streaming in from the low window. 

He looks achingly different and achingly familiar and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous. Now that Laurits knows who he is, who he was, who he’s supposed to be, he knows they both look different than they had, before, reborn into these seemingly mortal bodies. His brother is still  _ sunshine, _ warm skin and warmer hair and eyes like a clear sky, twinkling ever-bright with happiness. Laurits presses the tips of his fingers against his marble-cut cheekbones and kisses him, because he can, because Laurits has wanted to kiss him since he was four and Loki wanted to by the time he was three, because he’s wanted to kiss his brother every day of every life he’s ever lived. 

Laurits kisses him because nothing has ever felt like this. Like coming home and waking up and  _ flying. _ Magik sparks at his fingertips and lightning crackles through the air and Laurits feels infinite. 

He wants to kiss Magne forever, but...

“You’re a fucking idiot, brother,” Laurits breathes, using their relation like a term of endearment as he sucks on his bottom lip and grinds their hips together to drive his point home. “Shut the fuck up and let me do the talking, alright?”

Magne nods, but he doesn’t say anything. His dumb smile and the way his fingers are digging bruises into Laurits’ hips say enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> this was my first time writing Laurits' pov and i had a HORRIFIC time with it


End file.
